Twin moons bled from the sky, staining a path from sky to sea. It was a disturbing sight, a bad omen that cursed all to drown in its crimson light.
But tonight, to the man who observed it, it felt fitting. It was the anniversary of his first death, after all.
"You're like me, huh?" Hajun asked the moons, but it was the winds that howled a response. It almost sounded like words, muffled, pained, and barely there. But if he focused for long enough, he could hear it.
"H…help…m…me…" It seemed to say, calling out for help in between the deafening crash of waves against the cliffside. It was a voice which shifted cadence, from man to woman, old to young, until what remained was something he couldn't ignore.
Hajun grimaced, leaning down to peer over the edge. The spray of salt that hit his face as he knelt, it tasted of sulfur.
[ It is not alive. ]
The familiar voice that warned him, just as his eyes met the little girl who clung to the rocks below, had the distinctive sound of a radio that would not quite connect.
Hajun didn't trust the voice, which was born of his deteriorating psyche; but still, he knew it was right.
"I know." He exhaled slowly, then stood.
"B…big brother..! Help me…!" She said, her bruised fingers stretching out as far as they could, reaching out to him.
He didn't reach back, so her little hand vanished beneath the waves.
[ How cruel of you. ]
"Hah..!" Hajun's eyes stung as the biting winds echoed his own laughter back at him.
"That's just unfair!"
[ I only warned you, I didn't tell you not to help it.]
"Ha…so you want me to fall for the trick? Everyone knows not to listen to the voices here."
[ Haha! But you listen to me? ]
"I don't." He grit out, his lip nicking on the sanded edges of where his fangs used to be.
[ Ah it's always the same thing with you! Asking me only to ignore my advice and run to a fucking dead end! Do you think you're smart for disrespecting me— ]
Hajun didn't listen any further, letting the radio disconnect into the constant buzz at the back of his mind.
He looked to the waves that climbed higher, as if the sea itself was angry at him in particular. The longer he stared, the more that the water stained red. It was as if the moons had reopened a scar, a memory of bloodshed that all but the seas had opted to forget.
It was always easier, forgetting.
"I can't go back." Hajun murmured to himself, before coughing blood. His hand left his abdomen to cover his mouth, the blood from a stab wound mixing with what his lungs rejected.
The smell was rotten, nauseating, but he had to bear it. Just a little longer.
"Hah…just breathe through your mouth. It's okay. You're okay." He told himself as he crouched, making himself small to feel some sense of comfort.
He could hear the howl of wind, then the barking of a dog, hunting down the scent of his blood. It was a trained hound, and what it followed was the stench of a monster.
A monster caught hiding in plain sight. A lying vermin that played them all.
"Hey, Liem? Haha, I forgot, that's not your name is it? Hey, Park Hajun, you walking corpse, if you're really so sure you're not a monster, then how about we let the hounds decide?"
That was what Hajun had heard from his friend's mouth before a knife had buried in his stomach, before he had run from the possibility of others finding out that same truth.
"It doesn't even hurt right? You people have high pain tolerance, I heard. Honestly, don't you heal fast anyway?" He could still hear Kang Suahn's laughter, mocking him, goading him to prove to him, and everyone else that he was really a monster after all.
[ Friend? All that I saw was a backstabbing snake. ]
"If you're really human, then stay dead, alright? Stay in your lane for once!" Suahn had ground the knife into his guts, letting the pain simmer with his words before tearing it out and wagging the bloodied metal in his face.
Suahn would give it to the bounty hunters, and the dogs would track him down. The threat had been clear. Simple, even.
[ You should have taken that knife and stabbed him back! A few times in the throat would do wonders for my bruised pride…]
"You're okay." Hajun repeated, over and over, as a way to drown out that vengeful demon's demands.
As he deluded himself, he could only vaguely hear the footsteps echoing through the alleyways that led here, to the dead end behind the foundations of a building burnt by salvation, a bomber plane sent from the west to bring just that.
It was a dead end in a literal sense, because it was a common place to die. So common in fact, that the surrounding residents ignored any all screams and cries for help.
Of course they would, considering it was a violently haunted place. Even a logical person knew to fear those who did believe. There were quite a few fanatics near these cliffs, and many a rumour about rituals and demon worship.
For a moment, Hajun wondered if they were out there, performing a ritual somewhere in the dark. They would twist the appearance of the twin moons into some sign of salvation, of their devotion being repaid, no doubt about it. As funny as that thought was, he couldn't see any cloaked figures on or below the cliffs, not through the building haze of blood loss.
"Down ere? Ugh, ya think this monster's as stupid as it's ugly? Who runs here sane?!" A gruff voice echoed across the crumbling walls, making Hajun's weak laughter pause.
They were close. So close.
"I don't bet the bounties worth the trouble..! Heard some old fool died here just last week-! Said his wife was calling him! But the old hag's been dead for a decade!!" Another, almost drunken voice joined the other, their steps echoing in Hajun's ears.
"Ah- forget that!! Focus, dipshit, it's big money, monsters..! We don't gotta get no soldiers involved, let's just sell em for parts instead!"
Of course that's how I'll go, sold for parts. It's smart, really. A bunch of flesh chunks can't fight back, or heal, or survive.
Hajun laughed, his voice drowning out the barking, the hunters, and his own thoughts. He stood, turning to face the beam of a flashlight which caught him as the snarling dog of jagged teeth and grotesque legs, six, if he'd cared to count, propelled itself toward him.
At the deer caught in headlights.
But this deer only grinned before stepping back, and tipping backwards, just enough to avoid the jaws that snapped around where his head had been. The hellhound was jerked back by the tug of its spiked collar, but Hajun fell, watching as the common thugs that deemed themselves hunters swore after him.
"Goddamnit—!! You useless dog!!"
"We can't sell if there's no body—!? Why in all the burning hells didn't you control the mutt—?!"
"Fuck—!!! Find a way down, we're grabbing the body-" Their argument cut off as Hajun hit the water, a different, but equally unpleasant voice taking their place.
[ Damn it…! You fool. I could have killed them easily! ] The voice cursed, as if the pain of impact, and the sudden deprivation of air had affected it too.
Hajun hoped that it did. That this demon would suffer tonight, suffer and die along with him. Then at least he could die as Park Hajun. Not as a monster, or as Liem, only himself as he is and was.
But that was wishful thinking.
[ Park Hajun died that day. But you cannot die. I cannot die. ]
I am Park Hajun. If I'm dead, let me die.
There was a response, but he didn't try to understand it. He couldn't muster the courage to, not when a little hand slid into his, the cold skin grasping painfully.
"B…big brother…you came to save me…?" That little girl spoke, as if Hajun hadn't seen her be swept under the tides, as if he hadn't witnessed her drown.
You are dead. The dead don't need saving.
Of course, she—no, it couldn't hear his thoughts.
"Big…b…brother…? It hurts…! Please…help..?" The ghost continued on, its fingers digging into his skin. He felt the skin rip, his fresh blood seeping into the sea of red from multiple wounds.
Sea water burned all of them, but the abdominal pain above all was sharp and nagging; knocking him into a state of numbed consciousness. He couldn't struggle as the water demon, the gwishin, pulled him down.
"Mom…she…s…they pushed her in here b…b…before! Let's…! Let's find her together…?"
"D…did mommy send you t…to get me? She's w…waiting at the station, b…because the soldiers said to go."
The gwishin's words were inherently contradictory, told to gain sympathy, and to mess with its victims minds.
If he knew that to be true, then why did he listen to them?
He didn't know. Did he need to know?
"Let's…let's go! T…together let's…! Let's suffer together!"
…Okay.
A rush of cold agony stabbed through his skull as that voice warped, shifting from one coherent voice, to many that screeched for attention all at once.
"Hate them– Hate..!"
"They betrayed–!"
"Why..?? Why me?!"
"Pay..!! I'll make them pay–!!"
The many thoughts resounded in his mind, the will of many prying open his own scars to feed their own anger, and lust for revenge.
But somehow, it was almost comforting.
For the first time, he felt understood.
[ Y—Blasted fool—!! Don't—-listen t— ]
[ It's only— s- strong if your mind is weak. Ignore the words, don't believe a single w—rd— ]
In a moment of weakness, snippets of the demon's voice broke through to his numbing mind. But he ignored it, because he saw no reason to listen to it.
This was his choice.
It was his.
He had chosen one death over the other.
And there was nothing wrong with that.
Hajun's breath left him in a burst of bubbles, startled by something that snagged at his feet. His lethargic eyes searched the darkness, but instead of finding an answer, the answer found him.
Hands, cold, and dead, surged upwards, latching onto everything and anything it could reach. They pulled at his ankles, arms, hair, then throat. extending from the dark depths of the ocean, arms stretching for miles to reach him, and pull him down.
He wondered what was there down there, at the epicentre of a cluster of hands. Was it bones? A mass grave? Or was it mulgwishin, water demons, waiting to rip him apart and feast on his flesh?
He didn't know, because there were many stories, wives tales spun to explain the unexplainable. Which of them was the truth? What end awaited him at the bottom of this hell? He didn't know, but he assumed he'd find out soon enough.
So as his lungs filled with bloodied water, he closed his eyes and smiled.
════════════════════
"Emma…my Emma…visit your poor mother…" A forlorn voice swept through the streets like a draft of wind, bringing with it a woman who stumbled after it with a nervous gait.
The call of the sea was common here in Mulgwi Warf. To see a spectre of a loved one, or someone you've wronged, to hear their voice calling out night after night until it drove you mad; that was the normal here.
If you couldn't ignore it, if you step on a trap you could see plain as day, then you have only yourself to blame.
"She's dead. She's dead. She died at the hospital..! She's dead..! H-her body was given to science…! T-they paid me already!!"
But something kept Emma from believing her own words, because her feet kept moving, faster and faster until she was running towards her mother.
"You never visited me…Emma…! I was in pain Emma…! You let me die Emma…! You threw me away..!! You threw your mother away..!!!" Her mother wailed as she heard the crashing of waves against the cliffside. She knew where this was, where this lead, but she didn't stop, stumbling forward with glazed eyes.
But as she turned the corner, she collided with something cold and hollow, and fell backwards. She heard the low mutter of a man's voice before her eyes blinked back into reality.
A man stood there in what appeared to be a lab coat, dusting himself off and readjusting his grip on a silver-lined cane. From just that, Emma could tell that this man was important, because silver was a colour reserved for the elite.
"…Miss, please watch your step. It's dangerous." The man spoke with a disgruntled calmness, in a voice that she couldn't pinpoint nor describe.
She didn't try to, just as she didn't try to look at his face. Dangerous was the right word for what she felt from the ghastly figure, so she quickly bowed and spun around, disappearing into the alleyways that wound themselves around the Riotbanks, the so-called slums that circled Utopia.
"I didn't mean to intervene…but it's good that she left. There seems to be a hound here, and they don't necessarily discriminate who to eat when enraged." The man in the lab coat muttered to himself, then yawned, listening to the sound of the waves from the cliff's edge.
"You goddamn useless monster—!!" A gruff voice came from below, followed by the sound of lashes, and the yelp of the dog who suffered it.
"Can't even find a bloody dead body—??!"
A bark, a disgruntled yell, then screaming came from below, where two men had angered their hound while searching the tide pools for a supposed body. As gnashing teeth tore into them, ripping limb for limb, the man atop the cliff tapped at his cane. It was shaped like a snake of silver, curling around the pole to allow him to rest his hand on its head.
It hissed as if to declare its owner's boredom, as the sound of bones crushing under monstrous molars echoed with the wind.
"A-ARGHH—?!?? H-HELP—!!" They called out, but no one seemed to care. Not a single soul checked to see if it was the screams of a person, or a gwishin.
"Finally, some peaceful quiet." The man muttered, his eyes closed to the carnage below. There was nothing left there but blood and guts, as the sea had claimed even the hound, dragging it beneath the waves.
There was a muted string of chanting, of cheery cult induced euphoria somewhere in the cliffs, but he paid no mind to that. No, the demon they chanted the name of was who he addressed directly.
"I see you've enjoyed your supper, Nakdong. But don't waste my time any further." The man spoke to the wind, feeling it surge and howl past him in response.
This wind did not like him, and for good reason.
"It's…you who arrived unannounced, Doctor."
The words came from the wind itself, an amalgamation of voice that didn't belong to it. It was a disgusting sound, and it knew as much; which is why it quickly shifted cadence to something more sympathetic to the human ear.
"It's rude to interrupt dinner, young man."
An old woman formed by the cliff's edge, stepping forward hunched and dressed in a hospital gown. She shivered, as if she wasn't the cause of the frigid cold.
"I didn't interrupt. But I'm not patient either." The Doctor frowned, pointing the end of his cane at the woman's neck. It wasn't a weapon, not yet, but the threat in his voice was real.
"You did, and you are. What you are, is a lie." Nakdong stopped shivering, straightening out as the old woman's voice deepened suddenly. There was a shift, and the Doctor's cane moved upwards with it.
"You betrayed me. I died because of you." The familiar voice came from a higher point, from a form taller than him by about a head.
"Betrayed? You? I'm no fool to fall for empty tricks."
"You make a fool of others, is what you do. We were partners…and you betrayed me for power. Are you happy now, Shion? Are you finally content?" The mirage of a dead man regurgitated what little it could remember, twisting the story, the logic, until its words became a weapon.
But an overused weapon was a dull one. He had heard these words every night, carried by the wind and tide. Over the years, it had become something like a droning mosquito.
But this was the curse of the River Nakdong, and this place, where the river met the sea, was its focal point. For a resident of a port city built to encircle that very place, there was no escape from it.
"…Let's not test my patience. You know our deal. My silence is something I can revoke at any time."
"But I only greeted you? Did you not want to talk to an old friend?" The mimicry of a friend rested a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, leaning down into his space, talking down to him.
"Don't you miss me, Shion?"
The Doctor's hand shook, tightening on his cane. Then he sighed and planted it back on the ground, brushing that hand away. "You are a cruel being, Nakdong."
The winds seemed to laugh, before the mirage took a step back.
"I am only what drowned in me…there's so much filth now." Nakdong looked towards the ships, then across the river, where a city loomed in its brilliance while its smog and muck pumped into the surrounding waters.
"That's the cost of progress." The Doctor said as he leaned on his cane, listening to the faint hum of the steam engines and electrical lines that powered the port city of Jeokjo, or Red Tide, as the newest empire called it.
It wasn't too pleasant, the sound, nor the smell. But it was the city of hope, a chance for survival when the world itself withered.
For that, any cost was justified.
"Cost?" Nakdong's voice frayed at the seams, its form leaking and sputtering before stabilizing once more.
"Nothing can be achieved without sacrifice. Equivalent or not. It's the fundamental law of our field—"
"You are worse than filth." Nakdong cut him off, just as a wave crashed against the cliffside. The blood red water sprayed on the Doctor's face, and he simply wiped it off with the back of his hand.
"So do not speak of my cruelty, Doctor."
"...Unlike you, my cruelty is precise." A mocking chuckle came from the Doctor as he gestured to the rocks below, and the hand that burst from the water. It grasped at the rocks, hoisting a body up along with it.
"What?"
"Oh, wait a moment…wow! He's climbing up now! " The doctor mused, leaning over the cliff's edge to watch as a lone man scaled the impossible height. It wasn't a body that moved with intent, clambering onto the gnarled remains of a metal railing only to cut himself and stumble, fall, then climb again. To the Doctor, it was almost amusing.
"I suppose this is the body they were looking for? That's not the scent of a human…did one of your souls latch onto the body? Is that even possible?"
"No. It is not." Nakdong snarled, the wind howling as it tried and failed to rip those freshly clawed hands from the rocks.
Hajun didn't let go, or more so, his body didn't allow him to. Waves clashed under him, higher and higher, more and more violent as hands shot out to catch him, to drag him back to share in their watery grave.
He reached for the only help he saw, a figure by the cliff's edge who he knew was watching him, who knew that he was there.
"H...Help..!" He rasped out, or at least, he tried to; his lungs screaming as water mixed with air to produce a garbled sound.
But no help came. No one took his hand.
Air tasted bitter when Hajun coughed onto the jagged rocks beneath him, his eyes bleary as he scrambled up and over the cliff's edge. His fingers were raw and bloodied, the crimson staining black and forming claws that flexed as he stared at it with unfocused eyes.
Haa…I'm alive? Why?
Why again?
His body shook, his legs seeming to snap like twigs under a foundation they couldn't support as he tried to stand.
Cold.
It's so cold.
It was so cold that he didn't feel it when his body made impact with the ground moments later.